Twisted
by proflig8
Summary: Garrus doesn't understand why his commander would want to engage in such frivolous things with him, but he's never tried it with a human, and if it makes her happy ... he'll give her the best damn game of Twister she's ever played. One-shot, Garrus/fShep.


_**Author's Note: **Found this on the kink meme, and for some reason, it wont let me post when I try to reply to said prompt there. So! I'll put it here, as that was my original intention anyway. _

_**Prompt: **__When Garrus tells Shepard the story of Reach and Flexibility™, something is lost in the translation. Horribly lost. End result: Garrus doesn't understand why his Commander would want to engage in such frivolous things with him, but he's never tried it with a human, and if it makes her happy... He'll give her the best damn game of Twister she's ever played. _

* * *

"We could test your reach and _my flexibility_ …"

Garrus blinked once, and then twice. He knew his commanding officer well—or, that's what he liked to think—but after this little revelation …

She was a serious woman. Very serious, in fact. A scary cross between harsh and forgiving, Shepard's lines of good and evil were blurry. He always thought that she made the right choice, however, and honestly based his entire ethic around her style. Shepard was like his teacher; he the pupil, she the trusted mentor—well, Spirits, he just couldn't stop staring at her right now, jaw hanging open and mandibles fluttering.

She was a serious woman.

And … she wanted to do something like this?

Well, it was shocking, he knew that much. After that story he told her about himself and the recon scout, maybe she got in the mood for it? He wondered if she had ever even done it before, his past memory making her curious.

He'd never tried it with a human before. It would be … _interesting_, to say the least. Shepard is probably ten times more flexible than the recon scout.

Garrus then decided that he'd do it. After all, what could go wrong?

A moon and a sun later, Garrus approached his commander in the CIC, casual as ever. "Commander, where would you like to-"

She immediately registered his words and pressed a hand against his mouth. "Not _here_," she simply replied. "Where the hell else _would_ we do it, Garrus?"

He shrugged. "Somewhere with a lot of room, I'd imagine." His voice worked wonders on Shepard—not that he would ever realize that—but the red tint forming on her cheeks probably had something to do with his words. Not that he understood why. She was probably just getting nervous; after all, he's a _natural_ at this sort of thing. She should be on edge.

"W-Well, we'll be fine in my cabin," she answered, voice a lower octave than before. _Afraid of more competition, maybe? _The idea amused the turian to no end.

Deciding to let a little bit of his cockiness show through, he gave her a look that would have matched a human smirk, leaned down closer to her ear (because she was so _obviously_ dying to keep this secret—the commander doing such a thing? Treachery!) and murmured, "This is going to be fun. Can't wait."

She put a hand on his chest and let it linger before pushing him slowly away. She wouldn't let him look at her when she turned away hastily. "Good _God_, Garrus," he heard as she disappeared around the corner.

His mandibles flared in amusement.

* * *

At the scheduled date, Garrus messaged her over the comm and said, "Alright, I'm coming up soon with all of the necessary equipment for us to have a good time."

There was a long silence before Shepard answered back, breathless. "_Yeah. Okay._"

She sure was a lot less confident now than she was back in the forward battery the other day. Realization probably dawned on her when she thought about how reach tended to succeed more than flexibility did in this kind of situation. Didn't stop Garrus, however; this was just too good to pass up.

When he entered her cabin, she was in a white tank top and black sweat pants (he noted there was still a Cerberus logo and two yellow stripes on it), hair tied up lazily … which made a lot of sense to the turian. The fewer amount of clothes the better, Garrus thought. It was why he was dressed in his civilian clothing instead of that normal, battered up armor he normally wore. Good thing that hair was out of the way, too.

"Ready to finally get your ass kicked, Shepard?" he asked, grinning.

Her slight-smirk fell. "What?"

Garrus set the heavy box of _Twister _down on the floor and crossed his arms as he leaned against her desk. "You wanted to play, now let's go. Help me set it up, would you?"

She didn't do anything for a few moments. Regardless if she helped or not, he still would get it done. He pulled the long tarp-like mat out of the box, spread it out, and laid it across her floor. The large, colorful dots gave him a sense of nostalgia, and he took out the dial to set it nicely next to the mat. He sat on the floor, looking up at her expectantly.

"Well?"

The woman seemed to be in a haze; eventually, she shook her head, let out a deep breath, and she clutched her sides as she started to shake. Garrus thought that maybe she had gone into some sort of cardiac arrest, but she was simply laughing her ass off.

"This … is not how I pictured the tie breaker."

"Yeah, it's a little cramped in here," he agreed. "But we can make this work. Come on." He gestured for her to sit with him so they could start the game.

A large smile was still plastered to her face, and she finally seemed ready to play. That was a good sign, he thought when she joined her place next to him. Quite close, he noticed briefly, but leaned back a little and nodded towards the dial anyway.

"Here, you spin. Ladies first," he cajoled.

"Right." Slowly, her body stretched over his so she could flick the plastic with her index and thumb. When she retreated, she cast a glance over at the turian, eyes lidded. Who knew what was going through her mind right now?

They took their places at the opposite ends of the mat, then, and put one foot on the closest yellow, the other on the closest blue.

"Left arm green," Garrus declared, peering at her result.

* * *

The turian found himself enjoying this much more than he anticipated; Shepard, the sometimes-scary-yet-still-his-best-friend woman seemed to be doing the same. However, she wasn't doing as hot as he was. She was already doing a bridge, because Garrus had taken the appropriate spot she needed for her hand; in result, she had to flip over on her back without her back actually _touching_ the mat.

As he had said before, Garrus' reach was impeccable. Sure, Shepard was doing great at twisting and lifting and moving her body around quite flawlessly, but it tired her out more than it did for Garrus.

He noted inwardly (with not an ounce of dismay, he realized), that his only comfortable red circle would be on the other side of the front-up Shepard.

Determined to not lose, he simply put his worries aside and reached over her. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple to her jawline. He knew he'd win at this point.

Going for the dial looked like such a challenge for the human, but she had successfully flicked it and groaned when she saw how terrible it'd be. She strung an arm through Garrus' and landed on the yellow circle directly underneath his waist. Her other arm was craned downwards behind her head.

"Dammit, I don't think I'm going to …" Her body shook.

A small wave of pity washed over him; he quickly flicked the dial, and when he got his result, he took the hand that was _supposed_ to be moving elsewhere and placed it under her. The small of her back supported, she stopped shaking.

"Helping the enemy? I'm disappointed," she forced out with a laugh.

"False sense of security, maybe?" He shook his head. "Besides, I'd hate to see the game end so soon."

Once she caught her breath, he proceeded with his turn and put his hand right beside her neck. He was now practically towering over her, that predatory glint in his eyes—_too cocky_, Shepard thought.

She lifted up the hand that supported most of her weight, abdominal muscles clenching tightly as she maintained a struggle to stay up, and put it through Garrus' other arm. Her face was now practically nuzzling the cool skin of his neck, a lot more comfortable now that she had moved from that position.

Garrus let out a single breath; her closeness didn't bother him so much before when he was over her, but she was slowly gaining 'dominance', so to speak, and he wasn't sure if he liked or disliked it. But, damn, that sure felt good …

Refusing to get distracted, Garrus leaned slightly away—which resulted in her hot breath flitting over his neck—to take his turn again.

Luckily, the circle he needed was right underneath him. It was just back a little ways, so as long as he maintained his balance when he slipped his foot backwards …

He didn't. He let himself tumble back, Shepard closely following (what with her arms being entangled with his own).

Cursing inwardly, he craned his neck up and felt the woman's arms crushed by his back—not that she looked very bothered; content, even—and her chin resting on his stomach. With the upper half of her body pressed up against the lower half of _his_ …

He cleared his throat and lifted up his back a little to free her arms.

She crawled over him, not letting any of her touch the turian. "I win."

"So you did," he clarified.

"Garrus, I didn't invite you up here for a game of Twister."

"What?" Maybe her translator glitched, or used the wrong word for it. "Well, what _did _you invite me u-" his voice caught in his throat when he felt their bodies contacting; Shepard's knee pressing against his inner thigh, fingers dancing lightly under his fringe. "-_Oh_."

Everything pieced together immediately. Her reactions to his words, the suggestive dialogue he used over and over without him even realizing it …

_This _definitely_ turned out better than with the time with the recon scout_, he thought, Shepard's mouth hot against his plating.


End file.
